


Underneath

by ImperfectOrphanage



Category: Subarashiki Kono Sekai | The World Ends With You
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 07:46:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12836526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImperfectOrphanage/pseuds/ImperfectOrphanage
Summary: Everyone has a soft side. Even the Composer.





	Underneath

The habit of visiting Joshua in the sewer had started a week after the Game. Since Joshua hadn’t shown up at Hachiko, Neku went looking for him. He didn’t find much at first, but after sitting outside of the invisible door for five hours, Joshua allowed him to come in. Neku was freezing and damp, and the Composer took pity on him by giving him a pair of pajamas and a warm blanket.

He changed in front of Joshua without a thought. They had both seen each other naked during the Game while exchanging clothes in a dressing room. It was second nature at this point. Neku shrugged the pajamas on and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders as he curled his legs beneath him on the couch. The room was at a comfortable temperature-not too hot, not too cold, and the furniture was a dream.

The sofa cradled Neku’s body like a cliched cloud, and he sighed as the heat began to sink back into his skin and muscles. He hadn’t said anything since entering the Pad, and Joshua had been busy flipping through papers as he paced near the bar. Every once and a while he would sip a glass of wine, and between sips he would make a humming sound.

“So, uh,” Neku cleared his throat, “how goes it?”

“It goes,” Joshua replied softly. “I do wish I could have come to your little party but I have far too much paperwork.”

“Sucks to be the Composer, huh?”

Joshua looked up. He turned his gaze toward Neku.

“Sorry.”

“There is nothing to apologize for, Neku.” He returned to his work. “Ah, the numbers are horrible. What will the HC think? No, no.”

Neku glanced around the Pad. There was a television on the wall and it silently displayed the news. Reading the subtitles was a distraction, and within a few sentences he realized the news was not that of the Realground. It talked of death, Erasure, ascension, and other odd tidbits. A list of Reaper numbers and Erasure rates were displayed to show who had the most points in each region.

“You shouldn’t watch that,” Joshua said casually.

“Okay. What else do you have on here? How to be an asshole? What’s the best way to shoot someone in the face?”

“I can hear the humor in your voice. Ah, this won’t do.”

He carried the papers and the glass of wine to the couch. Sitting next to Neku, he leafed through the pages as the wine glass silently taunted Neku. Joshua continued to read as he spoke, “go ahead.”

“It’s probably not smart. I’d hate to get drunk.”

Joshua shrugged.

Again it went silent. Neku cuddled in the soft, pink blanket. He started to count the sheep on the pajamas he wore, and his eyes began to droop.

Somewhere between one minute and the next he’d fallen asleep. The room was filled with a quiet hum of energy, and next to him on the couch was Joshua, still going through paperwork. Joshua sighed, tossed the papers onto the table, and removed a pair of reading glasses he’d put on while Neku slept.

“It won’t do. Ah,” he sighed-frustrated-and scratched at his head. “I wanted a job without much work and yet here I am crunching numbers. What do you want, Neku?”

“I’ve been here for hours and only now you’re asking me what I want?”

Joshua rubbed his temples. “Forgive me for being rude.”

“I’m used to it,” Neku teased with a poke of his elbow into Joshua’s arm. When the Composer did not respond to the jab, Neku frowned. “Are you okay?”

“My head hurts,” he admitted through clenched teeth. “I am quite tired. Perhaps I should take a break from all of this.”

Neku pulled his arm out from under the blanket and curled it around Joshua’s shoulders. “How long have you been working on it?”

“Hm…what day did the Game end?”

“Last Sunday.” Neku suddenly caught on. “Holy fuck, Josh. You’ve been working for a week without taking a break? Have you eaten?”

Joshua made a face. “Oh. I forgot.”

Tossing the blanket off to drape it over Joshua, Neku hopped up. He went to the bar and began digging in the fridge and cabinets. “Okay, you’re going to eat something and get a nap.”

“Neku-“

“Don’t argue. I’m going to make you _something_ to eat. What do you like?”

The Composer’s expression went from surprise to sadness to bittersweet. “I do not require much.”

“Alright, you’re getting a Neku original-the suicide sandwich. Whatever is in the fridge is going in the sandwich and I’m going to toast it.”

He didn’t wait for Joshua to complain. Neku pulled out a series of odd things-olives, onions, tomatoes, cold cuts of ham and liver, and a bag of sprinkle cheese. It the back he found balsamic vinaigrette and a bottle of oil.

Well, it wouldn’t kill Josh.

“Honestly, Neku, you do not need to feed me.”

“Shut up,” he said, and turned to the counter to begin making a rather messy sandwich. There wasn’t a stove or a toaster, but there was a countertop convection oven. He placed the sandwich on a plate and stuck it in the oven to toast. The ingredients melted together with the cheese and the smell of cooking meat tickled Neku’s nose.

Once it was finished, the oven gave a ping, and Neku removed the plate with a towel. He slapped the mess of a sandwich on another plate in order for Joshua not to burn his hands. “Okay. You don’t have to eat it but you’ll make me sad.”

Joshua laughed as Neku handed him the sandwich. He set the plate down on the papers, took both hands, and lifted the monstrous meal up to his mouth. Taking a breath, Joshua bit into the middle of the sandwich before chewing slowly.

“You know,” he licked his lips, “it isn’t half bad. Perhaps because I’m hungry.”

“Thanks. I’m used to making cheap cuisine. You know, living alone and all.”

“I understand.” He took another bite. “Mm. You should eat.”

“Don’t worry about me. We can’t have the Composer of Shibuya dying on account of hunger. Who’d do the paperwork?” Neku pulled a few pages up from under the plate. They were in a foreign language that Neku could only describe as overly artistic. He turned it this way and that, and gave up.

By the time he finished, so had Joshua. He was licking his fingers and picking pieces of vegetables that had fallen from the sandwich. “My compliments.”

“Now you need to rest.”

“Neku-“

“Don’t complain. You owe me.” Neku took the blanket and motioned for Joshua to lay down. The Composer sighed and did so, and Neku tucked the blanket around him. It was obvious Joshua had slept in the room before, as there was a pillow in the corner near the back of the sofa. Neku fluffed it and put it under Joshua’s head.

Yawning, Joshua’s eyes began to close. “You need not stay.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind.” He sat on the floor and leaned against the couch. Joshua’s hand began to tangle in his hair and he tilted his head into the touch. “Apparently I was in an accident and released from the hospital just a week ago. The school told my dad not to worry about sending me back too soon. I have so much work to catch up on and-“

Snoring. Joshua was snoring.

Neku grinned. He picked up the television remote from the table and flipped through the channels while Joshua slept on and on. Time didn’t seem to exist in the Pad. If it did, Neku couldn’t feel it. His attention was squarely on Joshua’s Netflix lists and he learned a lot from the choices he had.

The energy of the room shifted. Neku felt a warmth behind him and he shivered. Glancing over his shoulder he saw Joshua had become a gentle being of light. His cloak was pure and glowing, and his cheeks were a touch grey from the brightness. Between his lapels was a bare chest, and Neku couldn’t help but look closer at the godlike boy.

Joshua moaned and shifted, and the curtain of light fluttered open at his stomach. Beneath it all, Neku saw a pair of fleece pajamas from Lapin Angelique. The idea of Joshua-Lord of Shibuya-wearing pajamas under his official work clothes was hilarious. Neku snickered, giggled, and laughed. It woke the overused Composer and Joshua stared at him in confusion.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean…it’s just…wow.”

“If given a chance,” Joshua yawned, “you would be wearing pajamas to school. Admit it.”

“No argument here. It’s just cute. Lord of the Dead in bunnies and hearts.”

The Composer smiled sleepily. He stroked Neku’s face. “We all have a soft side, dear.”

Neku felt heat flutter to his cheeks.

“Mmhm. You,” Joshua yawned again, “are my soft side.”

“Thanks?”

“Mm,” he sighed, eyelids growing heavy. “Be a dear and turn the lights down, would you?”

Neku waited. He watched as Joshua’s face relaxed and his mouth parted to breathe. The Composer looked fragile under Neku’s gaze. “Joshua…”

He paused, moved toward the light switch, and flicked it down to its lowest setting. Returning to his seat next to the sofa, he smiled, stroked Joshua’s cheek, and whispered.

“You’re my soft side, too.”


End file.
